Passing Through Hell
by thisbeautifuldisaster
Summary: Things don't always end up how you want them to. The world is cruel, and a broken life is dark. And when dark thoughts control your mind, eventually you break. (Summary and info inside.)


**(A/N: Bonjour to my new readers, I'm Amiee. :) A few things I need to say before we start in on the fun. 1st, this is my first Hunger Games story, and I'm super excited about it. Just an FYI-if you ever have a question or a comment, please, feel free to message me, or you can always leave it in a review. 2nd, before anyone tells me, I know this story is labeled a Katniss/Peeta fic, and trust me, it _will _be. Gale will be in the picture for some time though, so please, just bare with me. I love both Peeta and Gale for different reasons. This story will be a lot more than just a romance/fluffy love story. It's going to be angsty, and emotional, and yes, even sometimes dark. But in the end, it's a story about never letting the fire burn out of you. It is also a bit AU (alternate universe), so please don't inform me that what I'm doing isn't in the book. I know that. And finally, 3rd, this _will _be rated M for several reasons, so if you aren't comfortable with mature elements, then this story isn't for you. Anyways, that's it. Please feel free to read and review, they help me a lot! Thanks!) **

_Some say the world will end in fire,_

_Some say in ice. _

_From what I've tasted of desire,_

_ I hold with those who favor fire. _

_But if it had to perish twice,_

_I think I know enough of hate_

_To say that for destruction ice_

_Is also great_

_And would suffice. _

_-Robert Frost; Fire and Ice _

**Passing Through Hell**

I hate the phrase 'what if'. It makes me think too much, and when I think too much, I tend to drift off to a different place, where all I can see is red and all I can feel is anger and hatred. My actions and my actions alone have caused a lot of pain in not only my life, but the lives of people that I love, too. That's when the guilt hits me like a brick wall. _What if _I had tried this or that differently? Would the outcome have been any different? Probably not. Prim on the other hand, loves playing the game though, and usually asks me to play on the days where she has nothing else better to do. I can't say no to her, of course, so I play off my best smile, and work out a convincing laugh, and join in.

In the back of my mind, I wonder why people would want to talk and think about such things. In a world where we all don't have much, why does my sister want to imagine a life so much different than how things are now? Isn't it painful to think about? To think that if we had won the war, that we could live in peace, with our mother, and all of our friends? If things ended differently, they would all still probably be alive, no question about it.

When we go to the Registration Bureau each year, they always ask me how old I am. I always say the truth, obviously, but deep inside, a part of me feels like I died after the 75th Games. That's when everything fell apart. Every dream I had, every vision of what I wanted world to look like when we were all finally free of the Capitol, was shattered and smashed into a million pieces after that night.

…...

We never made it to District 13. Hell, we probably didn't even escape the city itself before the hovercraft malfuctioned and caused us to crash not far from where the arena had once stood. We were told later on that the Capitol had suspected where Plutarch Heavensbee's true alleigance was, and once it was reported that he and one of the many hovercraft were missing, they were able to tap into the mechanics of the aircraft from their control center and bring us down.

I don't remember much after the crash. I was told days later that Beetee, the brilliant victor from District 3, had been killed on impact. The other people who had saved me on the hovercraft-Haymitch, Finnick, Plutarch, and Gale, had all been taken to seperate, isolated rooms in the medical building of which we were all staying. And when I was able to sit up on my own, I asked to see each of them, but was quickly denied access by the employees that worked there. The doctors made up tons of excuses of how my coordination was off, and how my legs were still frail and too weak to hold me up, and how I was ordered to stay in the same clean smelling, white decorated room until further notice. And so, that's what I did for another week. I layed on that bed, read what books were given to me, and occasionally, I was able to flick on the oversized television hanging from the ceiling in front of me. There wasn't much to watch, though. The shows they advertised were vain and shallow: how to dye your hair a perfect turquiose, buy your new clothes at this boutique or that, or, as always, the same commercial would pop up every once in a while. It was Snow, sitting on the patio in front of his mention, smiling at the monitor and reminding citizens that in times of trial, it was best to report 'suspicious' behavior for the good of the country. The man was beyond paranoid, though he had every right to be. I wasn't stupid enough not to admit it. I had messed up his whole system with offering Peeta the berries in the Games the year before. And, because of that, I had made the Capitol look foolish, and instantly, uprisings formed in the various districts of Panem. And of course, the strong part of me wanted to join in and rid ourselves of the oppressive, evil government of my home forever, but once the President threatened to not only have Gale killed, but my family, I knew I had to cooperate with him and play his sick little game. Once I broke that force field over the arena though, things had changed. Snow knew I'd no longer do what he told me to do. That's where all the problems started. Problems far bigger than I had ever dreamed of.

That's what I had thought about all the time. Snow's fury and what that meant for me. Obviously, my death was almost guaranteed...but how would he do it? Would he allow for it to be in secret? Probably not. Because I was a victor, he'd probably have a firing squad shoot me on live television. Those thoughts and more haunted me day, and night. And at night, when everything was eerily quiet, and I could bare to think about him, I'd think of Peeta, and how much I wanted to know that he was at least safe. More than that though, I wanted him beside me. I wanted him to sleep beside me and hold me in his arms. I wanted to be able to hear his soft, sweet, still voice as he tried to assure me that things would be alright, even if he didn't believe it. He had always had a way with words, and that was one of the many reasons I loved him. If and when I broke down, he'd be my crutch...whether it was in the Games, or on the Victory Tour, or whatever. He was always there for me to lean on when I needed him the most. Sometimes, when we'd lay side by side on my bed on the train, we would just stare at each other until my eyes would grow to heavy and I'd fall asleep. His eyes though, were so mesmerizing, it wasn't fair. It was both weird and painful to sleep without him though, and there were some nights when I wouldn't be able to sleep at all. Those nights were spent asking every attendant who entered my room where exactly he was. When they'd ignore my questions, I'd start to _demand _to know, and that only left me with more questions than before. One of the attendants had said that he was in a better place than I was, but that he'd never be able to leave or escape it. That statement both confused and scared me. If he couldn't leave...then it certainly meant that he was being held there against his own will. There was no way in hell that Peeta would _want _to be contained and locked up in the Capitol's cages. Knowing that, drove me to find more answers. After trying for several nights, I was eventually handcuffed to the side of my bed and denied any more kind of information. So, I was left with the knowledge of what had been giving to me. I could never find Peeta, and since I couldn't find him, I had to at the very least, stick to the hope that wherever he was in the city, that he was doing better than I was.

Snow visited me the morning I was scheduled to be released from the sickly-sweet smelling hospital. As a stood, gathering what few belongings I had left, he entered my room without a sound, and I remember startling as I turned around to face him and the two white-clad Peacekeepers who lingered behind him. He had never been one to physically intimidate me, but in that moment, he looked truly terrifying. More monster, than a man. There was fire in his eyes, and the stench of blood and roses filled the room and burned my nose to badly, I had to place a hand over it. He stood there for a few seconds, just staring at me with burning eyes, and then, he smiled an all too familiar smile. I had seen it on magazine covers and television broadcasts. That was when he told me oh-so-subtly, that because of my choices, not only would I pay the price, but my loved ones would too, in ways that I couldn't even begin to fathom. When I heard that, it sent a frenzy through my body, and I practically lunged for him, but stopped myself short. He looked both surprised and amused, and although I was too prideful to beg him to not go along with what he had planned, I did try to negotiate with him. I wanted to take the place of the people I cared about, and literally spewed hundreds of potential options from my mouth in order to persuade him. I told him that I would stay in the Capitol for the rest of my life, that I would become an Avox and serve until the day I stopped breathing. Those were only a couple of the ideas I managed to spew out of my mouth. But, despite my efforts, he rejected every single one of them immediately. So, after a quick goodbye, he left the room, and I was left to the petrifying thoughts that filled my head. What the hell was he going to do to me? Or...worse, what would he do to the people that meant the most to me?

After being escorted home under a heavy Peacekeeper presence, Snow allowed me to move into a new house back home. I couldn't live with Prim or my mother under his orders, but they weren't far away. And, still living in the house I grew up in, it was somewhat comforting to venture off during the day to see them. I had missed them a lot...especially Prim. It was crazy to me how every day, she seemed less and less like the little girl I had known my whole life, and more of a young woman. It both saddened and excited me. I didn't really know how the whole ordeal affected my mother, though. She still stayed the same along with the concrete expression that was always plastered on her face every time I asked her how she was handling things. Although she told me not to worry about her, I did. A hell of a lot. Knowing Mom, she was bound to relapse under the weight of my predicament and slowly crawl back into her hole of depression, leaving my sister to care for not only herself, but our mother as well.

Gale, my absolute best friend, was also allowed to return home, and came to visit me a few days after I had gotten back myself. He looked tall and as handsome as ever. It still amazed me that it took me so long to actually realize how good looking he was. His grey eyes still shined, even though the brightness in them had dulled down a bit, but his smile, a smile I had came to love, was broken. It was painful to watch him even attempt at one, and most of the time, he could barely manage a grimace. It's how he looked when he finally felt comfortable enough to tell me about the fates of the others; of the people that had done everything they could to fight alongside me.

Plutarch Heavensbee had been killed during interrogation, just like how my stylist, Cinna, had died. I didn't know him well, but from what I could tell, he was extremely brave. Brave enough to walk into a room of Capitol supporters, and the damn president, and play them all. Gale told me that he didn't waver or cower when faced with death, and for some reason, that comforted me.

Johanna Mason, the girl from District 7, had been forced into a life of sexual servantry, which was a fancy word the Capitol citizens used for prostitution. Hearing that news darkened my heart. Johanna herself was wild and strong, and so it scared me to think about what they did to her in order for her to degrade herself to such a standard. Apparently, she lives in one of the towers near the President's mansion, and she serves a man by the name of Altimus Crawe.

Gale wasn't able to give me a straight verdict on Finnick, the boy victor and my friend from District 4. If they killed him, it's almost a guarantee that we would have heard about it. Finnick was practically worshiped in the Capitol, and if the President had him executed, that information would leak, and once the people of the city knew about his death, who knew what would happen? So, we came to the conclusion that, like Peeta, he isn't dead, but at the same time, he isn't really able to live his life. The girl back in his district, Annie Cresta, was said to have a meltdown when she learned of his demise.

We did know about what happened to Haymitch, though. Once he was able to recover from the crash, and could stand and walk on his own, he was taken to one of the many stockades around the city. Eventually, I guess, Snow gave him an appearance as well, and demanded, then forced him to accept the role of Head Gamemaker for years to come. I think I knew why, out of all the potential applicants, he picked Haymitch to run their 'show' from now on. The President knew how the Games had a lasting effect on my mentor, and in order to inflict as much mental pain as possible, he placed him back into his nightmares. The nightmares that, after his game, destroyed everyone and everything he had ever known. How grand it would be for them to watch Haymitch Abernathy, victor of the 2nd Quarter Quell, taking orders from them. A part of me ached to see him, despite the remaining bitter feelings I had towards him after he lied to me about keeping Peeta alive. I do not know where he lives in the Capitol now, but I'm guessing he lives alone. All alone...in a apartment decorated with bright colors, lavish, dramatic paintings, and dramatic statues sitting against the walls. Surely, the place they designated for him to live in was probably huge, and within reason. The government wanted to make him feel little and alone. They wanted to make him feel powerless. Over a few months, I had tried writing to him a few times, but I never got anything back. I don't know why I wanted to talk to him. I had a perfectly good reason to hate him and didn't have to talk to him ever again. That was the senseless, unemotional side of me talking, but really...there came a point when I realized that I not only wanted, but still _needed _him in my life. If anything, he was a part of Peeta that I could hold on to. Not only that, but since my first Games, he had been such a fatherly figure in my own life, and I had missed that. I had missed having a father; a person who not only cared about me, but wanted to keep me safe.

Out of everything that had happened to me, it was Gale who was able to keep me from breaking completely, or bursting into a fit of hateful flames. The months after we arrived back home were spent trying to avoid the constant security cameras following our every move. Whether it was in our own houses, (it was Snow's idea to have us under surveillance 24-7, so not long after, Peacekeepers had come into both of our houses and placed tiny little cameras in each corner of the walls) or out in public. Keeping an eye on us at all times seemed mandatory for them. So, whenever we left the confines of our houses, we always had to be escorted or followed by a Peacekeeper or two. They learned to keep their distance, but it still was completely irritating how they never would let us be alone, even if it was for just a few seconds. I found it ridiculous, and even tried to bargain with the guards to grant us freedom for just an hour a day, but my request was almost immediately turned down the moment the words left my lips. It was then that I realized that I was no longer respected. I was no longer a celebrated victor from the Hunger Games, but rather a criminal. A criminal, who, in the Capitol's mind, had threatened to undo everything they had ever known. And as a criminal, I was no longer treated with respect, or kindness. Instead, I constantly received angry, penetrating looks, or harsh words from the ones that followed me everywhere. I would lie and say that their words didn't bother me, but at the same time, it was expected. Snow wasn't a forgiving person, and I saw whatever measures he would take to keep me contained and quiet, in advance.

After a year, I finally allowed myself to start to feel and act normal again. It had been months since I had been plagued with nightmares, so I figured at that point, it was best to move on as best as I could...and I did. Not long after my 18th birthday, Gale and I officially started dating. It was weird for me to actually _court _someone on my own free will. Up until that point, I didn't know what it felt like to pick whoever I wanted to be with. Being with Peeta, there was never a question in my mind that I could ever be with someone else. Mainly because, if we had broken off our relationship, the citizens in the Capitol would have probably rioted. We were told several times, not only by Effie, but by Haymitch, Portia, and Cinna, how much the whole country was enthralled by our 'love story'. Our biggest fan was definitely Snow. I'll never forget how he came to visit me at our house in the Victor's Village, and told me to make the relationship I had with Peeta convincing, because apparently, it hadn't been genuine before. And, that was true...up until a point. I really didn't know how I felt about him until I could finally think about it without worrying about my head being blown off. That happened during the Quarter Quell, when we both had a few minutes of peace and quiet on the makeshift beach in the arena. It was then, and only then, when I realized how much I _did _care for him. How much I needed him beside me at all times. I couldn't loose him, and I did. The thought is still unbearable to me. I _lost _Peeta. My teammate, my ally, my friend, my rock, my...well, my _everything. _

Nevertheless, I let myself push those things to the back of my mind, and allowed myself to be happy with Gale, and I really was. We knew each other better than anyone. Our days were spent talking about random things, walking the length of the town multiple times, and, every once in a great while, we'd even be allowed to go hunt in the woods. When the Peacekeepers told us that, it surprised us both, but we didn't object to it. The woods was home to us, more so than the houses we lived in. It was familiar, and warm, and comforting. Hundreds upon hundreds of my memories were made in the woods behind our home, and for that reason, it was, and would forever be special to me.

After a couple years, we both agreed to marry, and did so in a small, quiet wedding. We didn't have many guests other than our families, but that didn't bother us. All that mattered to me, was that for the first time in years, I was finally happy. As happy as I could be, given the life I was living now. It was refreshing and comforting to be able to let myself heal and confine in someone else. Though Gale could probably never understand what I went through, he tried his hardest to listen to me when I had weak moments. Hearing my stories though, would only make him angry, and it would take a while for him to come back down to his normal self. I understand why he felt the way that he did. I knew he didn't like hearing about the way I was mentally tortured, but he needed to understand that what was in the past, was in the past for a reason. At that point, I was able to look back on it and not cringe for once. It was now a part of my history. Sure, a fucked up history, but a history none the less. All of it was a part of me, and ultimately, he accepted that. I knew he would. Most people weren't able to understand why he acted the way that he did, but I could. Everything Gale did or said, was for me. That in itself was reason enough to never let him go. I honestly couldn't imagine a world without him in it. He had been a part of my life for so many years, and it only seemed right to tie myself to him in every physical, mental, and lawful way possible. Above all, I did love him. I did. It took a hell of a long time for me to admit it, but there came a point when I couldn't deny it anymore. During first few months of our marriage, I'd say I was crazy about him. I couldn't seem to calm myself whenever he was around, and would literally jump on him like a damn animal whenever he'd come home after a long, tiring shift at the mine. It was weird to act like such a school girl...because it wasn't like me at all. But it was whatever, because I liked that side of me. Gale had been the only person who could get it out of me.

I didn't think I could possibly love anyone more, but like always, I was proven wrong when I had our first child, a daughter we named Farryn. The first time I saw her, I knew right then and there that there was no way I could never let her leave my sight. She was the only thing that truly made sense to me, and hell, was she perfect. I knew right off the bat that she looked almost exactly like Gale. Same eyes, same nose, same ears...same...everything. It was a relief, and yet, there were times when I grew a tad bit jealous at the fact. The first months were hard. She would cry throughout the night, which would frustrate Gale to no end, especially on the days when he would have to wake up extra early for work. After the fourth month though, she calmed down quite a bit, and we were both relieved. Being a 'stay at home' mother had never been something I wanted to do permanently, but for the time being, I was definitely enjoying the feeling of being one. On holidays, Mom and Prim, along with Hazelle and Gale's brothers and sisters, would come over for a small dinner. Prim and Posy just could never get enough of Farryn, and God knows my little baby loved the company she always received.

Finally, after years of trying, I was as happy as I could be. Nothing could have been better. Having my family, and Gale, and my daughter...that's all I needed. Despite living in a world where everywhere you walked, or turned, there was hate, my own home was filled with love and warmth. We never let the outside world into our house. The poisions that layed outside the walls were not welcomed, and both Gale and I did our best to keep our spirits high when things in our district went south. At the end of the day though, I had all I needed. And that was enough. No more nightmares, no more pain, no more regrets. Those things would forever stay in the deepest parts of my mind, never to return.

_Fuck...was I wrong. _

…...

(District 12; present day, 18th of December)

From my side of the bed, I listen to the soft explosions that come from outside, and Gale as he shuffles through the dresser in search of his stash of work shirts.

"Did you put them back after you washed them?" He asks me, then moves over to the foot of the bed before manuevering through a pile of clothes placed on the floor at the foot.

I groan slightly and bring a hand up to rub down the side of my face. "No, I forgot. Sorry."

He mumbles something, but it's not loud enough for me to hear. After a few more moments of watching his figure move throughout the room, he eventually finds a clean shirt at the bottom of our closet, and throws it on. The explosions that come from outside the window to my left grow a bit louder, and I frown. It's been going on for days, now. No one in the town has been given a straight answer as to what exactly is causing them, but word has spread that Tybalt Marx's group of rebels has been aggrivating the Peacekeepers.

I laugh dryly, then smile down into the comforter. Tybalt Marx is an idiot. His recklessness is going to get not only him, but others killed. He started his little band a few months back, after there had been a suspicious 'shortage' on bread and oil. The shortage, as the Capitol put it, was really the start of a famine. There were families that were literally starving to death, and that was hard to watch. What was even harder though, was watching the mothers of children...or sisters, or aunts, offer themselves to Peacekeepers in exchange for whatever food they guards had. This would amuse the Peacekeepers greatly, and so, most of them would accept.

It was wicked; what they would do to the poor girls after they had taken them to bed. Most of the men in the white suits would, as expected, break their promises of a sack of food, and instead, just toss those mothers, and sisters, and aunts back onto the dirty streets and left them empty handed. I was witness to this several times, and it disgusted me so much, that a part of me wanted to charge up to those men and strangle them. I couldn't do that, though. Not without being taken into custody. So instead, I managed to sneak around a few times to go hunting. Whenever I had extra meat to spare, I would go door to door around the surrounding houses and give my neighbors what I could. One of them, my friend, Ruby, gave me a bit of firewood in exchange for the game I gave her. The shortage only lasted for a couple of weeks, but when things got back to normal, permanent damage had already been done. 3 people, including a little boy, had died because of malnutrition.

That's when news sparked about a small rebel group banding together to create havoc for the district Peacekeepers started. I guess at first, it was just Tybalt Marx. Gale actually knew him, though they weren't personally friends. He had worked down in the mines with him, and when we were told that it was, in fact, him leading the revolts, Gale told me that he wasn't surprised, going on about how Tybalt was a mixture of a loose cannon and a ticking time-bomb. And even though he was a mess, he was able to get people to join up with him for whatever cause they were fighting for. I was told he was a good speaker; that he had a way with words and knew how to convince people to stand up for what they wanted. So far, there hasn't been a straight reason as to why they're rebelling, but I'm guessing it has to do with the fact that the Peacekeepers' oppressive nature seems to be growing by the day. They haven't been caught or arrested, either, mainly because they wear masks whenever they're all out together, so when they strike, the guards can't see their faces, and so then, they can't identify them correctly. With the information I know, it's a smart, yet daring move. There's so many outcome possibilities, it hurts my head to think about them all, so most of the time, I try to ignore it. This morning though, I can't. The explosions are ringing in my ears.

"Alright," Gale whispers softly, coming back over to where a sit, then leans down to kiss my lips quickly. "I'll be back sometime early this evening."

I nod, and offer him a smile before he turns and strides out of the room. His strong, heavy footsteps clank against the wooden floorboards of the house, and I can hear the door shut as he closes it behind him.

The house falls perfectly quiet, and I'm too lazy to get up as early as Gale does, so I fall back into a light sleep. When I wake up a couple hours later, I can hear Farryn from her room. She's making loud, impatient groans and wails, letting me know that she is ready to get up. So, after quickly changing from my pajamas into a pair of jeans and a old t-shirt, I venture out of our room and into our daughter's before scooping her up from her crib and walking back out into the living room. She babbles lightly to herself as I make my way over to the table and set her own in her own chair.

"What are you talking about, hmmm?" I ask her, smiling as she giggles at me. I don't know what what she's trying to say, obviously, but it's so damn cute, that I love hearing it anyway.

As she continues to chatter to herself, I decide to grab a spare bowl from the cupboard and warm her up a bit of plain oatmeal over the fireplace. Then, once it's done, I flavor it with a bit of honey. Normally, oatmeal is considered a 'delicacy', especially in 12, but since the President decided that I could keep my winnings from the 74th Games, I've been fortunate enough to afford a lot of things that we wouldn't normally be able to have.

I sit down across from Farryn and feed her slowly while watching her at the same time. She's so careful with the way she eats; taking small bites from the spoon, then carefully swallows it after a few seconds. Come to think of it, she does everything carefully. It's odd to see, too. It's like she knows when it's not the best time to scream or cry, and she always behaves the best when either Gale or I takes her out into the town with us. I'd say it's more of a blessing than anything. The least amount of attention I draw to myself-the better.

After breakfast, I spend the rest of the morning cleaning around the house-sweeping, mopping the floors by hand, and tidying up around the interior. Since it's so close to Christmas, Gale and I decided to celebrate it a bit earlier this year with our families, mainly because Prim won't actually be able to join us on the 25th. She is planning to leave home on Christmas Eve to go spend the holiday with her boyfriend and his family. She met her boyfriend, Wesson Alcott, almost a year ago as we made our annual trip to the Capitol; something that I have had to do every year since the Games. They met on the train; in the food car to be exact. I found that bit hilarious. She's told me the whole story multiple times. About how Wesson was like one of those old fashioned cowboys that we would read in history books at school. I haven't met him yet, but he sure as hell looks the part. In the pictures she's shown me, he's smiling, adorned in a cowboy hat, button down shirt, dirty, worn out jeans, and of course, brown wrangler boots cover his feet. I can't deny that he's handsome at all. Prim definitely lucked out on that issue, and from what she's told me, he has the best personality. Sweet, funny, protective, creative, and a hard worker. I like the latter. It's important to stay ambitious and keep working as hard as you can, especially in District 10. I've never wrangled cattle, or broke in horses, or anything like that...but I'm sure it's extremely physically challenging. So, knowing that he likes doing what he does, well, that's reassuring to me. The last thing I want is for my sister to end up with some bum who eventually decides to 'rebel' and stop doing his share of work. Prim deserves the best, and from what I can tell, Wesson seems like the best option for her. I'm excited to meet him. Gale and I are supposed to meet him and Prim in District 10 after the new year while on our trip back to the Capitol.

…...

It's late afternoon now, and I decide it's probably best to start gathering the food I have prepared to make for the dinner this evening. With that thought, I let out a light groan, pull myself up from the couch in the living room, and walk towards Farryn's room to check on her. As I crane my neck around her door to peek inside, I smile softly while gazing at my sleeping daughter, then pull on the knob of her door, closing it firmly. I should probably go ahead and go gather the berries.

The air, as usual, is stinging with bitter cold this time of year. I shut the front door behind me and scan around the various houses briefly. It sure is quiet for the middle of the day. Oddly quiet. My brows furrow together in thought, but I brush off my thoughts a few seconds later, and venture through the snow towards the back of the house, where our berry bushes are. It was Gale's idea while we were still dating. He said that adding on another hobby for me to do would be good for me. That way, I wouldn't have to always just sit in the house and dwell on my memories and thoughts, because the both of us knew what that would lead to. So, after a few conversations about it, I agreed, and we planted raspberry and blackberry bushes a day later.

The leaves on the bushes are hard, almost frozen. Still though, the berries hidden behind them are surprisingly big and plump. I hastily start in on the chore and grab a handful while trying to avoid the small, but sharp little thorns on the branches of the bush. And as I pick, I start to think. Not necessarily about bad things, just more about things I am doing-or well, am obligated to in the coming month. After Christmas, Gale and I have to take Farryn to the Capitol, so that she can be officially registered as a citizen of the country. Besides that, I have been ordered, ever since I came back home after the hovercraft crash, to visit the President at least once a year. Usually, these meetings are more for his benefit than mine. All he really does is meet with me in his home, and he asks me various questions, to which I must answer all of them. Then, once he's done with his questions, he casually talks about the upcoming Games, and how the Capitol keeps on thriving, despite little quarrels through the districts that pop up 'here and there'. I don't know why exactly he likes to do this every year. Maybe he does it to rub the whole, 'I'm still winning, and you're still loosing' thing in my face. If that really is the case, then I really don't care. I can't care anymore. I have so many other people to live for other than myself, and the last time I did what I wanted to do, I lost people I cared about.

Besides meeting with the President, there's also an annual 'reunion' of the surviving victors from the Games at the first of the year, and it's broadcasted live throughout the country. Caesar Flickerman hosts it, and each of us do a 'update' interview with him. This year, I'll have to bring up my daughter. He'll certainly be thrilled about that. They all will be.

Thinking about all of that has caused me to start picking at the berries a little too roughly, and I flinch as the padding on my thumb meets the tip of one of the thorns. Cursing quietly, I place the basket on the ground and bring my thumb up to my mouth. The taste of blood drips onto my tongue, and it tastes of metal and salt, really gross, but I don't care. A little prick on the finger is nothing to me. Not after some I've endured one to many injuries that were far worse than this.

"Katniss!"

I whirl around instantly upon hearing my name.

"Katniss!"

There it is, again. Confused and increasingly growing on edge, I frown, and quickly scan the bases of the trees behind the house. Nothing. I see nothing. But...I heard my name. How is that...?

"When you visit the Capitol soon, be prepared to see me."

...That's Effie's voice. I'd know it anywhere. Her musical, high pitched tone is so unique, it couldn't be anyone else. And then, I look up, and I see it. A jabberjay, sitting on one of the limbs of the trees above me. Its head cocks to the side, and I gaze into its beady little eyes.

"Haymitch."

That's the last thing it says before flying away while echoing the name again, and again, and again. The single word fades as the bird flies off deeper into the forest, but I find myself flabbergasted right then and there.

How the hell? _What _the hell? What just happened? I _know _it was Effie's voice the jabberjay was mimicking, but how in the world did she know where I was? I hadn't seen her since before the Quarter Quell. Hell, I didn't even know if the Capitol decided to keep her alive or not. Sure, I'm completely relieved that she is alright, but still...that doesn't make my confusion fade away.

What does she want with me? What did she mean when she said that I should be prepared to see her in just a couple weeks? And...the question that bothered and confused me the most. Before the jabberjay flew away, it said Haymitch. As in, Haymitch Abernathy. That's what really bothers me. I have no idea how to feel about that. Does this mean I'll see him too? I don't know if I'm ready for that. Who knows what he's like, now that he lives in the Capitol?

I shudder at the thought of a brainwashed Haymitch, then flinch wildly as a hand comes down on my shoulder. As I turn, I take in the utterly confused expression of my sister.

"Katniss...are you alright?" She asks me, worry evident in her voice.

It takes me a moment to answer her, but I swallow and manage a smile. "Yeah, Prim. I'm fine. I just got distracted for a bit."

Before she can retort with a series of questions I know she's dying to ask, I shrug and move around her to pick up the basket full of berries, then pull her towards me, flinging my arm across her shoulders.

"Come on, let's get inside. How was your day?" I ask, desperate to change the subject.

We both walk through the snow, and she sighs, then shrugs against my arm. "It was fine. Nothing new. Lady's pregnant. Did I tell you that? It will probably be her last one."

I smirk at the mention of Prim's pygmy goat as we reach the small porch of my home, and shake my head as I open the door and usher her inside. "No, I didn't know that. What are you wanting this time? A boy or a girl?"

Prim shuffles over to the dining table and puts down a seperate basket, full of silverware, and begins to take off her outerwear, casually tossing it onto one of the empty chairs. "I'm not sure. I'm thinking a boy would be better though. Wesson has a ton of does, so I'm thinking a few billy's wouldn't be a bad idea."

She shoots a wink at me, and I laugh. This is what I need right now. Family. _Not _to worry about what just happened minutes earlier outside. I try to remember that as I move into the kitchen and begin on preparing dinner.


End file.
